


Not the Same

by pahfoo



Category: The 100
Genre: Drabble, M/M, Post-Mount Weather, jasper dies au, minty, minty au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-11
Updated: 2015-03-11
Packaged: 2018-03-17 09:44:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3524573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pahfoo/pseuds/pahfoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Jasper dies in Mount Weather Miller is there for Monty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not the Same

**Author's Note:**

  * For [starcrossed92](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starcrossed92/gifts).



 

Monty was sitting on the scorched ground outside Mount Weather. Around him people were hugging and talking, not quite celebrating, and yet they were happier than Monty had seen anyone be in quite a while. Understandable really, they had won hadn’t they? Mount Weather was defeated, they were free, so that must mean they were the victors. But he didn’t feel like a victor. Monty hadn’t won anything, he had only lost. He had lost Jasper.

He still couldn’t really believe it, and yet it was all he could think about. Jasper was dead. Monty kept going over all his memories and in almost all of them Jasper was there with him. Supporting him, helping him, keeping him company and making him laugh. He had just always been there and now he wasn’t.

Monty could feel tears falling down his face. He shook his head. _I don’t want to think about it._ Nobody was paying him much attention. Even though the battle was over, there was still much to be seen to, prisoners and wounded to take care of. The dead could wait.

Monty couldn’t stop himself from replaying the scene over and over. The image of Jasper flinging himself forward, directly into the line of fire, to save Maya, kept haunting him. He saw his best friends falling to his knees, hit by not one, but at least five bullet wounds. The memory of arms holding him back as he struggled to get free, to get to Jasper, left him shaking.

He tried to calm himself down, he wiped his tears away with a shaky hand and he looked out at the people scattered between the mountain and the forest line. There was Bellamy, a big gash across his face and paler than usual, standing with Lincoln of all people, delivering what Monty could tell even from the distance was a motivational speech. He was gesturing wildly, the intensity of his words not lessened by the size of their audience. Monty’s eyes travelled further, past Clarke kneeling next to a wounded Harper, and stopped as they reached the outskirts of the wood. Miller was sitting with his back against a tree, his arms around his legs and his head on his father’s shoulder. Despite everything, Monty felt the corner of his lips twitch up at the sight. David Miller had gotten a bullet through his shoulder during the fight, but otherwise he was alright, and Miller was finally reunited with his father.

At the thought of the person who most decidedly wasn’t alright, Monty shook his head furiously, in an attempt to will the thought of his dead best friend from his mind. When he focused his gaze again Miller had left his father’s side and was heading towards the little burnt off fleck of grass Monty was sitting on. Monty looked down, he didn’t know how to act, he wanted to cry and he wanted to run away and he wanted a hug. He could see the other boy’s shoes in front of him and hear his breathing, but Miller didn’t say anything. He just sat down next to Monty and gingerly put an arm around his shoulders. Monty didn’t move, but continued to sit motionless on the ground.

“I’m sorry.” Miller’s voice was raspy and deep, and at his words Monty couldn’t hold himself together anymore. His whole body started shaking and in between the sobs heaving through his body he started talking.

“I don’t..  Jasper was all I had.” He tried to wipe his tears away, but they just kept coming, now that he’d opened up, he couldn’t stop. He sniffled and continued failing to keep his voice from shaking.

“Back on the Ark, it was always just the two of us. You know? He... he was always there. And now I have no one.”

At that, Miller lifted the arm from Monty’s shoulder and instead moved to kneel in front of him. He tilted his head so he could look at Monty, whose head was hanging.

“You’re wrong. You have me.” His voice was low, but earnest, and he sounded so different from the Miller he had come to know. Then his mouth twisted into a familiar wry smile. “And everyone else I suppose, we’re not on the Ark anymore, you have all of us here. But especially me. I know that’s not the same...”

He trailed of, suddenly seeming unsure, but he didn’t move away. Monty willed himself to stop crying, and wiped his face with the back of his hand.

“You’re right. It’s not the same.” He said, and Miller’s face fell, just for a second, then he nodded. But Monty continued.

“It doesn’t have to be. I don’t want it to be the same.” And he reached out and grabbed the other boy’s hand. It felt warm and strong, and though Monty was torn apart on the inside, he didn’t feel alone anymore. Miller tightened his grip on Monty’s hand and nodded.

“Okay.”

And Monty closed his eyes, focused on the hand that was keeping him anchored, preventing him from falling apart and whispered.

“Thank you Nathan.”


End file.
